I’ve gathered that—to some—my presence as an openly Jewish, queer, feminist person is interpreted as a disruption that needs to be fixed.

When I stared down at my siddur for the first time, the one I would come to memorize, I ran my pudgy fingers over the fiery red woman featured on its glossy cover.

My camp shirts represent a timeline of my growth into a proud, strong Chinese and Jewish woman.

The new movement of Jewish agricultural and regenerative farming has been at the center of my identity development.

My prayer shawl, which is titled “The Garden of Eden,” was designed specifically for Women of the Wall.

My jade chai necklace has become my most prized possession as a Jewish-Chinese feminist.

To this day, I’m astounded by congregants’ enthusiasm as they hopped on weekly—and eventually daily—Zoom voter phone-banking sessions.

Since discovering subtle antisemitism in my AP Government textbook, I haven’t read any of the assigned pages.

The themes in the YA fiction I read in middle school fueled my internalized misogyny.

As an intern at the US District Court House, I recognized a pattern, both in the cases that were brought forth and in the defendants’ backgrounds.

I’ve come to understand that my access to wealth and privilege can be leveraged to fight the systems that gave me them.

Is corporate support during June really "Pride," or is it just commodification of queer culture to bolster capitalism?

As a Modern Orthodox Jew, prayer spaces for women (or lack thereof) in synagogues I've attended have made me feel like an outsider in my own religious space.

Last summer, protesters in my city of Minneapolis were begging a system to change.

As a mixed-race Jewish woman, I’m no stranger to discussions about privilege.

Since Rowan's passing, I've learned about how lacking the United States is when it comes to healthcare accessibility.

Ginny and Georgia raised significant questions for me as a Jewish feminist. Given its recent renewal for a second season, I think these questions are worth engaging.

In my family of four kids, my dyslexia made me the odd one out. I believed it was uncommon, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Dworkin didn’t try to make feminism trendy or more appealing; instead, her contributions were biting, radical, and definitely controversial.